Etienne
by xenokattz
Summary: To keep his family safe, Remy LeBeau must go to Xavier's School for the Gifted. This is his life in the ten years after he agreed to help bring the Wolverine in.
1. Chapter 1

_Fall 2006 - Salem City, NY, USA_

Once upon a less troubled time, Xavier's School for Gifted Children glowed. Dark green ivy thrived, tamed, on the brick gates. The herringbone pattern edged the driveway from the main northwestern entrance to the circular parkade, every stone filled, every dandelion tuft plucked from the grout. Water used to flow in the parkade's fountain and fish swam in the reflecting pool. The centuries old mansion was a fallen noblewoman, shabbily proud and fighting to stay unbowed. For that reason alone, Remy was apt to give it a chance.

He patted Etienne's knee. "You sitting good, ti'Yen?"

"Weh." The boy's helmet muffled his answer. "Y'friend needs a gardener."

"We're lucky, he don't sharpen the lawnmower on my ass."

Etienne laughed. "Ah, one of _those_ friends. Shoulda known."

"Gonna pass a slap, me, if you keep going on like that."

"Pfft. Gotta catch me first, vieux."

Remy revved his Kawasaki through the gates then, very deliberately, dipped to the left until their knees skidded over grass. "Who you calling vieux now?"

Etienne yelped his glee.

"Tell me who you calling vieux?"

"Not you, not you! Look out!"

He jerked the bike upright in time to miss a hug pot of something overgrown. The wheels spat gravel as he raced to up the driveway and around the mouldy fountain to the front doors. Etienne hopped off as soon as they stopped. He took his helmet off, shaking his hair ragged. Remy dismounted more slowly, scanning the building. Small faces disappeared from windows. Leaves shushed all around them.

"Ain't no one told these people schools are supposed to be loud?" Remy pulled his helmet off and hooked it on the rack beside Etienne's. With the same movement, he slipped on a pair of sunglasses. He brushed his fingers through the worst of the tangles in his hair. "Let's have a look at you."

Etienne stood. The boy had an unnatural way of staying still as a post when need be. Remy brushed the worst of the road dust from the boy's jeans. He rubbed a smudge off his cheek. Tied half his hair back away from his face. Stalled some more.

"You can just use your power and make them like us," Etienne whispered.

"This many people?" Remy shook his head. "Gonna be up to my gilded tongue."

"We're doomed."

Remy smacked his cheek lightly, playfully. "Who taught you them manners?"

"Pas te, fo sho."

Shaking his head, Remy straightened. "Stay here. I'm going in first." Etienne snapped out of adult mode but Remy ended that whine before it began. "Recon, remember? When it's safe, you come in. Otherwise, you know how to run."

"And where you hide the bombs," Etienne muttered knowingly.

"Right." Impulsively, he dropped to one knee and squeezed the boy hard, letting go before he could wriggle out in pre-pubescent outrage. "Everything's gonna be fine, hein?"

The boy nodded.

***

_Spring 1996 - Reno, NV, USA_

Remy studied the man he'd been hired to capture. The suit who contacted him said Wolverine was a berserker who'd kill a hundred people if they got on the wrong side of his mood. Nothing about the man read berserker except maybe the hair. And Remy read people well.

Wolverine took a chair at the poker table. The other players leaned away. He looked Remy in the eye. "I know who you are, Gambit."

"My reputation precedes me. Gotta tell you though, you ain't my type." He held his hand out to the back. Two women jostled to hold it. "Now, Steve over there to my right is a real bear man--"

Wolverine slammed a hand on the table. Towers of chips rattled and collapsed. "Tell your boss if he doesn't mess with me, I won't mess with him. I don't care what he thinks I know. I don't care what he thinks I want to do. I want him to-- I want them all to leave me the hell alone."

"Now, hommes, no one wants to be alone."

"I do." The man exhaled as though in exhaling he breathed every last essence of his past life away. "I just want… to be alone."

The scary thing was Remy believed him. He read it in every line of the Wolverine's body. He'd never been more sorry to finish a job. Creed took position near the entrance. Deadpool had the scaffolding at three o'clock. Remy flipped a stack of cards between his two hands. A real shame, him. A man with real regrets wanting to make it better. Remy understood too well. But between his life and Belladonna's, the choice was clear.

Crackling magenta lines traced the intricate patterns on the back of the ace of spades.

***

_Fall 2006 - Salem City, NY, USA_

Four pairs of very loud sneakers called Logan out of his office--fucking-a, he still couldn't believe he had an office!-- before they yelled "Mr. Logan! Mr. Logan! Mr. Logan!" He opened the door to four panting, wide-eyed students.

"There's someone on a bike in the driveway," said one girl.

"He's kind of cute," said another.

"And there's a boy, is he a student?" asked the sole male in the gaggle.

"What's his power?" the final student asked.

Thankfully, Ororo saved him. "Children, back to your classes. We only needed one person to call Logan." She ignored their dejected moans as she made her way to his side. "Expecting anyone?"

Shrugging, Logan said, "Hell, 'Ro, you know I can't keep up with my extensive social circle. Stay ready when I answer the door."

"As always." She activated her hands-free. "Places everyone. Stay sharp, teachers."

The doorbell clanged. Once upon a brighter time, the sound warmed the entrance. Now it made Logan's shoulders tense.

He opened the door. The first thing he saw were red-on-black eyes. The last time he saw such a pair, he'd been blown half to hell by a deck of cards so he could be forgiven for extending his claws. Gambit's reaction to the "snikt' of six adamantium blades was just as expected. He drew his bo out of his belt and slammed the charged end into Wolverine's throat.

The explosion flashed through the foyer. Other staff members ran into the fray. Ororo threw a gust of wind at the door. Gambit flattened then rolled on his back into a spin kick up. Three charged cards left his hand. Wolverine ducked the first, tore the second in half and blocked the third half a second before it exploded. He ran for Gambit's throat.

A helmet slammed into his stomach, stopping him flat. A miniature Gambit glared up at him.

"Don't touch him!" Gambit swept the kid away. A whole deck of charged cards fanned out in his free hand.

"Stop it!" Rogue slapped her bare hand of LeBeau's cheek even as she pushed Logan into Colossus's metallic chokehold. He ducked down before she could get a good hold but even then, she absorbed enough of his energy to make him light-headed. He tripped on his backside, gasping for breath. "You two want to hash it out, take it outside! There are kids here and God knows we can't afford to replace any more furniture."

"He started it! He hit my papa first!" The kid pointed at Logan.

Logan peered at the kid. Then he let out a chuckle. "Jesus, LeBeau. You have a kid?" He laughed harder. "You _only_ have _one_ kid?"

With a shake of his head, Remy said, "You crazy as a bugfuck, Wolverine. Crazier than Deadpool and they invented a special new type of crazy when they pulled him outta the tank. They let you 'round kids, shouldn't have a problem with me."

"I didn't blow a whole complex down."

"Me? I disappeared like a good thief. Was that skinny Corey Hart wanna-be blew up your complex."

Logan stared him down. "What skinny Corey Hart wanna-be?"

***

_Summer 1996 - Alkali Lake, AB, Canada_

Steel and cement hailed down. Fire lapped at their heels.

"Here!" Remy shouted, waving at the open door.

The other boy followed, arms over his head to protect his glasses, limping on a twisted ankle. "How do you know this is the way out?" he gasped.

"I don't. I just know it's not on fi--fuck me sideways!"

His companion just gaped. Tanks of cloudy liquid stood five rows deep. Inside, barely discernable, were tiny bodies. Some tanks were lit up in yellow lights, others had reddish-brown liquid trailing through the fluid.

"Please tell me I'm not seeing this," Remy said. But the other guy had left his side, going through the tanks row by row. "What're you doing?"

"There might be some that're alive," he said.

"Then what? We pack 'em in our pockets? In case you didn't notice, this whole damned building is on fire."

"I'm _not_ going to leave babies in a burning building!"

"They probably ain't even real--"

"Real what?!" For a nerd with a sprain, he moved fast. "Real people? Isn't that what they say about us?"

Remy couldn't find a retort to that. The other guy went back to his search. Two steps later, Remy followed. On the other side of the wall, the fire continued to rip through the hallways. Even so, the sweat on his forehead had less to do with the temperature and more with the atrocities in these tanks.

With one tank left to check, movement caught Remy's attention. He leaned closer to the glass. The thing-- the baby-- inside kicked its skinny legs. "I found one," he said, his voice raspy. So louder, he repeated, "I found one."

His companion ran to his side. "Thank God. Take your coat off."

"What? Why?"

"We're going to need something to wrap him in."

Remy knew water damage on leather meant nothing to the boy so he obediently shed the coat. The other guy climbed on top of the tank and, after studying the lid, took off his glasses. Red bolts fired from his eyes, crushing the locks off the solid metal lid. Before the baby sank to the bottom, he reached in and pulled it out.

"It's a boy," he said.

***

_Fall 2006 -Salem City, NY, USA_

Fist to his mouth, Remy studied the pictures of Scott Summers plastered all over the walls of the main floor study. He only smiled at the candid shots; when he posed, his face stiffened. It couldn't have been a lack of self-esteem; his shoulders were straight, his gaze (such as it was) direct, his chin never dipping down. The stiffness seemed more like impatience. This was a man who preferred to be doing something-- anything-- other than mugging for the spotlight.

"The students get the most work done here." Rogue spoke over his shoulder. "He's still watching them, making sure they stay in line."

"He was strict?"

"Yeah, sure. But not in a mean way. He had really high standards for everyone but only because he really believed we could reach them. My first day in shop class, he gave me the engine, a couple of camshafts and the handlebars from a Ninja ZX-6R and told me my entire grade rested on putting the whole bike together." She smiled, reaching up to brush specks from the glass. "I was petrified for all of five seconds. Then he told me that he could tell I absorbed everything he'd been saying in class and, if I did a good enough job, the bike was mine."

"He why you teach shop now?"

"He piqued my interest in mechanics. He couldn't get me to love trigonometry though. My second subject is English."

"You? A teacher? You can't be much older than your students."

Rogue's smile hardened. "We don't exactly have teachers ramming the doors down and I'm willing to be paid in room and board."

He let some of his charm reach out. "I didn't mean to offend. I'm just amazed; it's a big accomplishment for someone your age."

"And what age would that be, Mr. LeBeau?"

This was going to be dicey. "Twenty-two?"

"I'm twenty." Laughing at his discomfort, Rogue said, "That wasn't a fair question. I didn't mean to be one of those girls."

"One of what girls?"

"Y'know. The Cosmo-reading, Sex in the City-watching alley cats. I just couldn't resist what with you trying to make the moves on me."

"Bad habit," Remy said. "Poor self-esteem. Absent parents. Rock music. Have I covered all the reasons I'm a jackass?"

"You forgot genetic arrogance."

"That's a given, hein?"

Their circuit of the room ended at the window over-looking the basketball court. Etienne dribbled the ball with unusual clumsiness. His new classmates yelled for a pass or blocked his view. He'd played basketball before, in urban and rural settings. Etienne had always thrown his everything into the game, knowing this could be the one chance to show his skills to this particular group of contemporaries. The way they moved around, he was lucky if he played in the same court for two consecutive weeks.

"He's lucky to have you," said Rogue. "It's good for the other kids, too. They can see not all parents reject their children just because they're mutants."

Etienne lobbed the ball to his teammate, an older girl, who dribbled, faked a shot then passed it back. The play was perfect for a lay-up. Etienne took it. Together, they watched the big orange ball weeble around the rim before sinking into the basket.

"He's fitting in real well."

"He's had a lot of practice. We moved dang near once a month the past couple years. It'll probably do him good to have friends, family of sorts. I ain't a good man or a particularly brave one," said Remy. "But I'd die for that boy. 'Course, I'd whine about it a lot. Probably haunt him afterward, too."

Rogue smiled. "It's the thought that counts. Now, unless you were real precocious in middle school, you don't look old enough to be Etienne's father."

He kept from wincing by digging his nails into his palms. "That's them good genes again."

***

_Spring 1996 - Hillsview, SD, USA_

A gun cracked. But he wasn't dead. He was just damned close. Remy didn't even try to open his eyes. Better not to know what they were going to do with him.

Striker's cigars and Old Spice wafted near his nose. "I know you can hear me, LeBeau. And I know you're shitting your shorts, like the candy-ass you are, so I'm going to make it worse by telling you what's going to happen to you. Deadpool shot you at a specific angle through the base of your 'll live but you'll be a vegetable; you can think like you always do but you won't be able to hold your piss. If you hadn't double-crossed us, this could have ended much better but you had to pretend to be smarter than you look. Usually, we'd leave it at that but luckily for you, your DNA has some significance. You're one of the few mutants with multiple unrelated gifts. I don't know what else you can do besides activate potential kinetic energy but I want to find out.

"So this is what we're going to do: I'm going to plant a safety device in your brain, right in that hole Deadpool made for us. Then I'll give you that healing factor you wanted so badly and you're going to wake up whole. You won't heal all the time but you'll age a little slower which should appeal to your massive ego. If you try to leave before the mission's finished, I'll blow your brain up. If you try to double-cross us again, I blow your brain up. If you insult my cigars while you're working for us, I blow your brain up. But if you finish this mission and capture the Wolverine, you're free to go. I'll throw in another 5cc's of healing factor if he comes back alive.

"Do we have a contract?"

***

_Fall 2006 - Salem City, NY, USA_

After basketball came dinner and after dinner, a half hour more of free time before the middle-schoolers trooped upstairs for curfew. The high school students didn't have to go to bed until ten. They took over the rec room while the staff met in the headmaster's office.

Ororo didn't change any of Xavier's furniture but she made the study her own by filling it with plants. Remy swatted a hibiscus branch away as he sat down. Wolverine-- Logan-- took the biggest chair next to Ororo and Rogue beside him. The head of the high school classes, Forge, took the seat on Ororo's left leaving Betsy Braddock, the resident telepath, closest to Remy. She made his skin crawl. He didn't trust psychics.

"Logan has told us what little knew about you," said Ororo. "Our recent past keeps us from being overly trusting so while I assure you that we will give Etienne the best education we can offer and a home for as long as he needs it, I'm afraid you'll have to convince us to extend the invitation to you."

"Ain't a problem to me," Remy said. "I'd do the same in your shoes. Hell, I don't trust you half as much as you seem to be trusting me. What I know of him--" he nodded at Logan-- "he shouldn't be let near anyone within a mile unshackled."

Rogue bristled, leaving Remy to wonder exactly what her relationship was with Logan.

"If I had a choice, I wouldn't let him stay here. My gut, it says keep moving. Don't rest. The minute I rest, they find me and they find ti'Yen. I blow this whole damn school up before I let them get their sick paws on that boy again."

"We'd like to stop them before you reach that level of desperation," said Betsy.

Ororo nodded. "Sadly, we've had practice. Please continue, Mr. LeBeau. What exactly is Etienne's gift?"

He shrugged. "No idea. Don't think it's come out yet."

"Stop wasting our time, Gambit," Logan snarled. "Either you're dumping your kid on us or--"

Remy gripped the armrests on his chair. The upholstery's threads crackled with kinetic energy. "Don't you question my love for that boy. You ain't got the right. Not until you raise your own kid, you ain't got any right to assume things like that."

He felt a hand on his arm. Rogue stroked him gently, her gloves slick on the sleeves of his shirt. "Logan's just jaded," she said. "Like 'Ro said, we've seen it so often, we assume it's normal. That's wrong of us and we won't do it again." Her tone left the "right?" implied.

"It started last year after Black Tuesday," he said, calming into her touch. "I fell on the first wave, of course, and when I came to, Etienne was still out. Expected that so I just carried him back to our hotel room, let him sleep it off. When it got dark and he was still asleep, I started to worry. Was about to pack him to a hospital when he just popped straight out of bed, screaming and holding his head like he wanted to tear his scalp off."

The hairs on his arms stood as memories rushed his senses. "I never heard such crying. Went on for almost an hour before he tired himself out and someone called the cops on us. The older one was nice enough but the rookie was positive the big bad mutant had kidnapped him and was--" He shook his head. "I got out of there right quick. Next time it happened was a month later. Then two weeks after that, never any pattern until this past September. Then it started happening every night."

"What did the doctors say?" Ororo asked softly.

"You think I get anything from any doctor? With the goddamn government on my tail, my devil's eyes and a boy looks like I been dragging him 'round the house by his hair? Fuck!" He slammed a fist on his chair. "I give him cough syrup before bedtime and hope to God it takes the edge off when his headaches near split him in half 'cause the only other thing I can do, goddamn useless father that I am, is tell him that it'll go away and it'll be over soon, all the while thinking one day, it'll be true and--" His throat closed.

***

_Summer 2006 - Alkali Lake, AB, Canada_

Remy knew water damage on leather meant nothing to the boy so he obediently shed the coat. The other guy climbed on top of the tank and, after studying the lid, took off his glasses. Red bolts fired from his eyes, crushing the locks off the solid metal lid. Before the baby sank to the bottom, he reached in and pulled it out.

"It's a boy," he said.

"Congratulations," said Remy in a deadpan. "Now can we go?"

He nodded as he wrapped Remy's leather jacket around the wriggling infant. Something that might have been shame sliced through Remy's chest.

"I ain't the one limping. Give him to me," he said. When the guy hesitated, he let out a huff. "I ain't gonna drop him when he's wearing my jacket."

"Make sure you keep his neck steady," the other guy said.

"I know, I know, I watched ER before."

His companion cracked a grin. He looked lot younger when he wasn't grimacing in plain.

"What're you called anyway?" Remy asked.

"Me?" He shrugged. "I'm Sc... Call me Slim."

"Gambit."

"You play chess?"

"Shh, family secret. Nerds don't get girls." The continued threat of fire broke the newfound peace. Remy didn't have to turn to know it had now entered the room. "Can you see any other exits?"

"I can make one," said Slim. "Which way do you think is out?"

"There." Remy jerked his chin west.

Slim lifted his glasses. Red bolts slammed through the wall and kept going. The fire spiraled at the sudden intake of air. Tanks all around them creaked and shattered. They ran.

***

_Fall 2006 - Salem City, NY, USA_

Up until this moment, Remy believed the most heartbreaking sound on earth was Etienne's screams during one of his episodes. It paled next to his muffled sobs. He lifted the boy on his lap and smoothed his hair.

"Now why you looking like I made you hunker down in the train station toilet? This here's a grand old house with plenty of friends and a Playstation hooked up to a big TV. I ain't ever seen a TV that big, hein?"

Etienne clung to his shoulders. "I won't scream no more, Papa. I be real quiet. I promise. I even drink all my medicine so I keep quiet. Don't leave me here."

Ah Jesus. Ah Christ on a fucking stick. He was tearing Remy's heart out by the roots. "None of that, ti'Yen, me bebette. This ain't something you did. This is me and the bad men I used to work for. Remember I tell you about that?" At his son's small nod, he continued, "I need to get rid of the microchip in my head so they can't follow us any more. The minute that happens, I swear to you, I am back here with you and I'll never leave. Not even when you a teenager with a girlfriend and begging me to leave."

"I don't care! Don't go, please, Papa, don't leave me alone."

"I don't want to but I got to." Remy kissed the top of his head. "You know what you do for me while you're here? You learn a lot. I know you miss your books and here you got it all the time and--"

"No! I don't like it here if you ain't staying either!"

"Ah, ti'Yen!"

"NO!"

Just outside the door, Rogue paused, one eyebrow up in inquiry. Remy gestured her in. "Etienne," she said, her voice soft and sweet as chocolate. "We've started a movie in the rec room."

Etienne locked his fingers around Remy's neck. "No!"

Remy hardened his tone. "Etienne Christopher LeBeau, you know better than this. Now, have I ever broken a promise?"

He shook his head.

"So when I say I'll be back as soon as I can, you know I mean, it, hein?"

He nodded.

"Out loud now."

"Weh, Papa."

"Byen." He thumbed the tear tracks from Etienne's cheeks. He'd never been a chubby child but even his few baby features were fading now. Ten years old going on thirty most days as was needed with their kind of life but Remy wished time could stop while he took care of his business. "I love you, boy. You know that."

He drove away that night, his ears ringing with those muffled sobs.


	2. Chapter 2

_Winter 2006 - Grenville, NM, USA_

Contrary to everything he trained for, Remy entered this house through the front door. Only fools tried to break into Kestrel's house. Only pieces of those fools left after the attempt.

"It's Gambit," he told the intercom. "I'm here alone."

"You people are never alone."

"I don't work for Department K any more. They fucked me over, same as you."

"Gambit." Kestrel made a considering sound. "The way I heard it, you bent over and lubed your ass with honey for them."

"I was nineteen and in love. Nothing makes a man stupider."

The door clicked open. Taking a deep breath for courage, Remy entered. The house was deceptively homey with gleaming linoleum and lemon-oiled wicker. Every light fixture held a camera instead. Three of them tracked his movement down the hall.

"Kestrel? Where you at?"

A small object flew from the stair. Remy twisted to one side, drawing out his bo with one hand and charging a trey of cards with the other. The object bounced off the wall and landed at his knee. It was a bullet. A big old bullet.

"That's a copper-jacketed .45 ACP hot-load with a depleted uranium core swimming in mercury. It leaves an exit wound the size of a deep-dish chicken pot pie, and the next one will be considerably faster." Kestrel descended the stairs.

"I just want information."

"Dial 411."

"Information that'll help take certain members of the Weapon X team down."

Kestrel passed at that. "You have five minutes to talk and leave. After that, I throw your body out. You got some nerve coming here with that leash in your head."

"I'm here about the microchip. I been everywhere, asked anyone worth asking and they say you can't get it out without a lot of brain damage."

"Boy, you were brain damaged to begin with accepting a deal with Striker. I don't know what you're worried about."

"Fuck you. You volunteered before me."

"And this is my reward." He spread his arms wide. "I own forty acres of landmines and cameras. I live in a booby trap. I grow my own fucking food and slaughter my own goddamned pigs. And I still feel like they can track me down any day. Especially that fucker, Sabretooth. They broke the psycho mould with him."

Remy gulped down his bile.

***

_Summer 1996 - Alkali Lake, AB, Canada_

"You think you can stop me?" Sabreooth roared. The glow of kinetic energy demonized his face even more. "You're nothing, frail! You're a fucking afterthought."

Remy charged the metal bars. He tried to ignore the stickiness between his fingers. He had a lot of material to charge.

"When I heal, I'm going to find you, swamp rat. I'm going to find you and I'm going to tear you to pieces, one square inch at a time."

With the grate charged, Remy kneeled and started to charge the ground. Sabretooth writhed on his rack.

"You're going to wish for death, LeBeau. You're going to regret getting that healing factor 'cause it means I get to play with your guts while you're still awake and screaming."

A six-foot radius around Sabretooth throbbed with energy. Remy didn't want to see his handiwork explode. Scooping the baby up from his hidey-hole, he ran out of that frozen hellhole.

***

_Winter 2006 - Grenville, NM, USA_

Remy gulped down his bile. "Eh byen, if you can't tell me how to get rid of it, tell me how to keep Striker and Department K away."

"Department K never goes away. It becomes Department L then M then N and when they get to Z, they'll rename it. You get away when you're dead, plain and simple. That's why I've got this set up and why you've got two minutes left. As for Striker, you're about a year and a half too late. He's dead."

"What?"

Kestrel shrugged. "Nothing confirmed on paper but someone got real pissed off at the ruins in Alkali Lake and burst the damn all over it. My sources say Striker was still doing experiments in the basement and he got trapped there when the water came."

"Fuck." Remy hit the nearest wall. "So what do I do about this damn microchip?"

A pistol appeared in Ketrel's hand. "I could always shoot it out."

Remy could have withered a tree with his glare. "You could try. How'd you get yours out?"

Now the other man almost smiled. "I knew a living, breathing magnet. Try your luck with him."

"And throw myself into more politics? No thanks."

"Then you live the rest of your life with Department K on your ass."

Damn Striker. Even dead the bastard had him by the balls.

***

_Spring 1996 - Hillsview, SD, USA_

"You backing out of the contract, Striker?"

The sonuvabitch had the smug to grin at him around his cigar. "The contract was to bring Wolverine in. I don't see Wolverine around."

"This was a fucking one-off," said Remy. "I help with that mission, you pay with healing factor. Ain't my fault your boys couldn't bring him down. Maybe you shoulda pumped them up with something besides healing factor and adamantium."

That caught Striker's attention. He hid it well. Stiff cloth in military uniforms helped disguise the minute twitches signaling surprise, discomfort and anger. After all of that, all you had to do was steady your face. "I should've known the Guilds would latch onto the myth of adamantium. You people want to profit at everything, don't you?"

"Ain't a myth if I got proof." With a snap of his fingers, Remy brought up a three-inch floppy disc. "What you think I could do with a block of adamantium ain't nothing next to information. Welcome to the digital age, Lieutenant General Striker."

"You have nothing."

"I have blueprints to two smelting plants in Canada, a security feed of a highly suspicious holding cell and a weapons deal with Afghanistan."

"All in one floppy?"

"Apparently, there's something you can download off the world wide web called a compression program. You put information in, it mashes it into a zip file, and you save it here." Remy waved his disc again. "Funny thing-- for all this advanced technology, you ain't heard of it? Maybe you on the wrong side of the Pentagon's R&D."

"And what's to stop me from killing you for this information?"

Remy felt the nozzle of a gun at the base of his neck. The safety clicked off.

"I warmed it for you," said Deadpool. "I know how you love being next to hot bodies."

"I'm going to send your head back to New Orleans and demand a better Thief," said Striker. "One that doesn't blow half the city to hell and let the target get away."

"Only if you can convince your boss to open up his wallet again," Remy said, "so I guess you're gonna have to practice some deep throat action--argh!."

Deadpool stepped on the finger he'd sliced off Remy's left hand. "That's disrespectful. Do you have any idea the horrors our brave military men go through to protect truth, justice and the American way? Why, every time you burn an American flag, a sergeant looses his wingtips."

"Fuck. You."

"Not without a promise ring. I'm positive you're teeming with STD's and I'm not that kind of guy."

Striker stood. "Enough. Every minute we waste, Wolverine gets away. Fix this problem so we can move to the next plan."

Remy bared his teeth. "Is that the plan where you suck my horse di--"

A gun cracked. But he wasn't dead.

***

_Winter 2006 - Salem City, NY, USA_

He received the call somewhere on Interstate 44 through Missouri.

"Etienne's been kidnapped. He was taken along with three of his classmates and Rogue while they were on a field trip." Ororo's calmness had nearly made him snap. "I'm very confident of Rogue's ability to protect the children but the kidnapper named you. I'm enroute in Blackbird right now; give me your exact location."

Something in the tone of her voice told him she was holding back. "You know the kidnapper."

Ororo was painfully silent.

"Who was it?"

"I'll tell you once you're on the jet."

"You tell me now." He took a breath, let it out, and tried again without raising his voice. "Please. Tell me now."

"It's Sabretooth."

So now he sat in the jet, so goddamn scared for his boy he could throw up but knowing he had to stay calm. No one ever beat Sabretooth in a panic; he thrived on it. Probably got stronger with every pissed pair of shorts.

Logan looked over his shoulder at him. "I won't let Creed hurt him."

"You sure won't. 'Cause I'm the one gonna be talking to him."

"We went over this. It's too dangerous for you."

"He asked for me," said Remy. "He has my son and he asked for me to do the deal. If he asked me poke burning toothpicks into my eyes, I'd do it if it meant he'd let Etienne go."

"You know as well as I do that Sabretooth doesn't work like that. He'll toy with you then do what he wants anyway."

He was right. Dammit, he was right. "I don't got a choice."

***

_Summer 1996 - Alkali Lake, AB, Canada_

Things were going well until they reached ground level. Slim tripped to a stop as military types poured out of Jeeps and portables. "This is... this is a government facility?" He sounded like a kicked puppy.

Remy couldn't find any sympathy for the younger boy's delusions. "Make you want to salute, don't it?"

A group of soldiers noticed them and began to signal more of their buddies over. Shakily, Slim took a steadier position on the ground. "You should go."

"Wha-- you messed in the head, boy?"

"I can keep them away," he said, tapping his glasses. "You need to keep the baby safe."

"But there's at least a hundred--"

"I can take care of a hundred as long as there's sun out." He lifted his face up to the weak spring light. "Besides you need your hands to use your powers. You should just run."

Remy saw there was no arguing with him. Whispering, "Fuck it," he left. The baby wailed into his chest, frightened by the chaos. Escaped mutants poured out of the building, too, confused and enraged. The soldiers made good targets for that anger.

He got as far as the compound's outer wall before Sabretooth caught up. "You really want to die, don't you, swamp rat?"

"We lost. Get over it."

"_You_ lost it for us. I'm here to make sure you don't go for a third time." He bared his claws.

Remy did not have the time for this. He didn't even have his hands free. The baby reached for his face. All around them, more cement and steel fell.

Sabretooth stretched his lips out in what should have been a smile. "Aww, did you bring me a snack, swamp rat?"

Remy jumped out of the way of a cement chunk. It exploded into sand when it contacted the ground. He looked up. More debris was due to fall. This was just about the worst place to stand if you didn't want death by impalement.

Then again...

Remy circled around. "You gonna lip at me all day or actually get the balls to fight?"

Sabretooth charged. Remy threw up a handful of charged sand. They hit Sabretooths' face, as damaging as sparklers but his distraction gave Remy enough time to throw five cards up at a rack of steel bars hanging by a twisted pipe. The explosion sent it plunging down, too fast for Sabretooth to escape. Ten-foot bars stabbed him in three places on his back, pinning him to the ground. Remy put the baby down in a safe place and jumped on the bars to make sure he'd stay put. Snarling, Sabretooth tried to grab him but the bars were too effective a prison.

"You think you can stop me?" Sabretooth roared. The glow of kinetic energy demonized his face even more. "You're nothing, frail! You're a fucking afterthought."

Remy charged the metal bars. He tried to ignore the stickiness between his fingers. He had a lot of material to charge.

***

_Winter 2006 - Reno, NV, USA_

Funny thing about people: they very rarely looked up. Even in the dazzling light shows on every building in Reno, no one took notice of the rooftop of the Circus-Circus. One figure stood on the corner of the ledge, the wind snapping his coat around his legs. In each outstretched hand, he held a rope, twenty feet long, pulled taught by the weight of the person on each end.

Remy approached Sabretooth cautiously. "I'm here. Where's Etienne?"

Sabretooth stared over Remy's shoulder where the X-Men fanned out in ready position. "I don't remember saying you could bring friends."

"They're here for Rogue and the other students."

"Tsk, tsk, tsk. That wasn't part of the plan."

"What's the plan?"

Grinning, Sabretooth asked, "You know what I like about casinos? They turn everything into a game. A shiny, noisy game. Like gambling. Anyone will tell you gambling is about the odds. Right now, for example, you've got fifty-fifty odds that your bratty little sniveler is at the end of this rope." He yanked the rope up and down. Etienne's terrified wails traveled up the building.

Stomach clenched, Remy took a step forward.

"Hey, I didn't say anything about moving."

"God_damn_ you, give me back my boy!"

"I told you, swamp rat. I told you I'd find you and tear you to pieces. One fucking organ at a time." His snarl roughened every word. "Do you know how long it took me to heal? I had to grow everything from scraps and if it didn't grow right, I had to tear it out again myself to start all over. You know what breaking your own fucking leg fifteen times does to a man? For starters, it makes him even more pissed off."

"So hurt me already," Remy shouted. "You want to tear me apart, just do it! You got me here. You don't need hostages."

But Sabretooth only shook his head and widened his grin. "That's too easy. You only got enough healing factor to come back from the dead; you weren't born with it so you can't heal over and over again. I'd give you two hours of torture, three if I get real creative, but that's not nearly enough. No, I figure, I want to kill your soul first." He wiggled the ropes. "Say hi to your daddy, frail!"

"Jesus."

"No, just me. But you can kneel all the same."

Ororo spoke up. "Where are Rogue and the other children?"

"Oh, around," said Sabretooth. "One of them got lippy so I had to beat some manners into her. You ought to do something about that. I guess with Wolverine as one of their teachers, they couldn't help but be... annoying. Heya there, Jimmy. I just realized I got the jackpot here. Guess who's behind door number two." He shook the rope on his right hand.

Rogue shrieked expletives unworthy of a teacher, and an English teacher at that.

"Awfully sweet young meat. Thanks for tenderizing her for me. She screams real pretty."

"You fucking son of a bitch." Logan started to run but Remy held his arm out.

"Don't!"

Sabretooth laughed. "Listen to the swamp rat, Jimmy. I've been standing here a long time. My arms are tired and who knows what could happen if I get surprised. I could get sweaty."

"What do you want?" Remy demanded. "Tell me what you fucking want from me."

Sabretooth dipped his chin. "Come closer. And no tricks or I let go."

"Don't play his game," said Logan.

"Shut up," said Remy. He walked closer.

Purring in approval, Sabretooth said, "Now kneel."

He dropped to his knees. In a flash, Sabretooth kicked out and connected with Remy's jaw. Blood spurted in his mouth and he swore he heard something in his neck click. He fell on his elbows. Straightened back up on his haunches.

Sabretooth chuckled. "That's good. That's real good. You learn fast." He lashed out again.

This time his boot whacked the side of Remy's face, sending him sprawling on the ground. His head bounced off the concrete with a sick, hollow thud. He could barely breathe. The world tilted at wrong angles. But his got up and kneeled once more at Sabretooth's feet.

"You're making this too easy."

Remy wanted to talk back but his jaw didn't feel like it was in the right position. So he just glared. The flare of his red eyes could speak volumes.

"If you're going to make it boring, I guess I can just skip to the fun part," said Sabretooth. "You want your kid? You have to go through me to catch him."

Catch him.

Remy was on his feet, running, to hell with the tilt of the world, but Sabretooth had already let go. Etienne's screams ripped through his stomach. No, that was Sabretooth's claws, shredding Kevlar and leather as Remy leapt past him, arms outstretched, leaving his vulnerable torso wide open. Etienne's face was white against the dark streets and the neon lights, the rope an arabesque surrounding him. To his left was Rogue in perfect dive position, her arms and legs bound just like Etienne. Remy reached and reached and reached...

The rope tore his hands but Remy clung tight. There, to his four o'clock, the fluorescent orange finger of the billboard clown. He jerked his body back, hooking his legs around outcropping. He saw Etienne curl back and swing forward, catching Rogue in his locked arms. Good boy. She swung, too, trying to keep herself from turning into a deadweight. The billboard's steel frame cut into his legs. The weight of two bodies popped his shoulders out of joint. Blood in his hands slicked the rope dark and the blood from his abdomen trickled into his eyes. Remy clung tight until Ororo floated beside him with Etienne whole and safe in her arms.

"Papa!" Etienne held his arms out for him.

Remy found his own arms were much too heavy to move. Instead he smiled. "Hey, ti'Yen."

"Papa, we're going to save you--"

"Ah, but you done that a long time ago."

"-- Ms. Psylocke's just gonna climb down now--"

"I love you, boy."

"--here she come, Papa."

Remy let go.

***

_Winter 2006 - Salem City, NY, USA_

Rogue had held Etienne many times through his nightly headaches but she'd never seen him an inconsolable as this. The headache started when they strapped an oxygen mask on Remy. It worsened when, no matter how hard he called out, Remy didn't wake. Now the poor child was locked in fetal position in medbay, hanks of hair in his hands, unable to move such was his agony.

"Can you give him a shot of something?" Rogue demanded of Ororo.

"I've given him a full adult dose of sedatives and it hasn't worked. I'm afraid to give him any more."

Rogue pulled the boy into her lap. "It's me, Etienne, it's Ms. Rogue. Your daddy's going to be fine now. The doctors are with him."

Etienne shook his head. "Muh-muh-muh--"

"Shhh, shhh, don't try to talk."

"Muh-my f-f-f-- my fuh-fault--"

"Oh, no, honey. No, sugar, this isn't your fault. You should never, _ever_ believe that."

He managed a couple deeper breaths. "I w-w-went off--"

"And I followed you. Heck, it was my idea to have a fieldtrip. Does that make it my fault? Of course not." Rogue patted down his tangled brown hair. "Is your headache better?"

He wagged his head then, suddenly, made a gagging noise. "It's poking through my eyes!"

"Shhh, shhh, I've got you. I won't let it poke through your eyes." She embraced him tighter.

"Want Papa." His whimpering escalated and then he was screaming again, nearly convulsing in pain.

"Your papa wants you, too. He's going to get better because he's got you to live for. He promised, right? He promised he'd come back and never leave you alone. Etienne, honey, your papa loves you so much."

The boy gasped, his head thrown back. Twin bolts of red punched a hole through the basement, the main floor, the dormitories and out the attic of Xavier's School for the Gifted.

_~fin~_


End file.
